


Rebirth

by what_alchemy



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-15
Updated: 2011-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_alchemy/pseuds/what_alchemy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/170962">In Mutual Orbit.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebirth

There is no comp system Jamie can’t hack, and the _Enterprise_ locking mechanisms are no exception. Spock’s haphazard attempt at keeping her – and McCoy – out are laughable, his efforts thwarted by his state of mind. In under nine minutes, Jamie’s in, face to face with a snarling Vulcan, strength and tension tightly coiled in his muscles, fists balled as if to keep himself from destroying the furniture, the bulkheads, himself. Her First Officer, her lost love; she knows him more thoroughly anyone else in the universe can possibly claim to, and yet he’s utterly alien now, face contorted into a feral caricature of his usual placid expression.

“Get out,” he growls, visibly keeping himself from approaching her.

“Not until you tell me just what in the great steaming _fuck_ you think you’re doing.”

“It is not your concern. Leave me.”

“You almost took off Chekov’s head on the bridge. You _broke_ Chapel’s _arm_ , for fuck’s sake. Whatever your severe damage is right now, First Officer, you _will_ explain it to me as your commanding officer.”

Spock’s mouth takes on a mutinous sneer, exposing his suddenly very sharp looking incisors, and a threatening rumble escapes his gullet and echoes along the bulkheads. Slowly, like the prowling predator he has become, he moves in close to his Captain. She stands stock still as she would for a rampaging animal as he leans in and _smells_ her.

“Spock,” Jamie whispers, unbidden, an involuntary gasp coinciding with a surprise flood of heat and wetness through her loins.

“It is my biology. Vulcan biology.”

Millimeters separate them, but still he does not touch her, though his self-control has been crumbling before her eyes for weeks. It has been _so long_ , she suddenly thinks. She has mastered the art of Not Thinking of Spock these past few years, because she knew the empty ache where once she knew love would surely break her, but now she can smell him, she can feel the blazing heat rolling off him, she can see his turmoil and his arousal and his black flaming eyes, and something she refuses to call her heart squeezes inside her chest at how much she’s longed for him.

“Explain yourself,” she bites out, refusing to let her voice quiver on a longer command.

“Vulcan males are stripped of our logic every seven years, forced to endure the fires of ponn farr: the mating imperative. It is – it is unbearable. I did not know. I did not know. How it _burns_.” Finally he makes contact, burying his head in the humid curve where her neck meets her shoulder. He’s… nuzzling. “So _cool_ , ashayam.”

“Oh, God.”

With a snarl, Spock pushes off of her and she collides with a bulkhead from the force of it. Blinking the kaleidoscope of floating lights from behind her eyes, Jamie watches him struggle to regain composure. She watches him fail.

“I will not,” he exclaims in a determined, quavering voice. “I will not consign you to this, I will not _force_ you.” He is panting, color high on his cheeks and spreading down his neck past his collar. “You must leave me. Jamie, ashayam. I will not shame us both. Please. Please.”

“Bones says you’ll die.”

“Then I will die with honor, not having disgraced myself by– ” He shuts his mouth and his eyes, turning his back to her and hunching into himself. His arms come around his own torso, bracing against the wrack of the flames licking through his blood.

Jamie’s mouth hardens. She feels ugly and cruel.

“If you don’t want _damaged goods_ , we can find someone else willing to fuck your problems away. That new ensign in sciences or Shuyan in computing both moon after you like pathetic dogs. You don’t just get to sit here and _die_ , Spock. God, I never pegged you for a coward, but that’s exactly what you are.”

Spock whips around to face her. He is wild, his expression uncontrolled and mired in fear and rage and desire.

“No,” he barks. “No, you will give your word that you will not get someone else to ease my burden. You will give your word.”

“Spock, I can’t let you choose death. Why are you doing this to yourself? Fuck,” she laughs without humor, “why are you doing this to _me_? I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Spock, please.”

She makes a decision then and strides over to him. She puts her hands out carefully, slowly, so he isn’t startled, and they come around the sides of his face.

“Tell me why you’re doing this, Spock,” she whispers. He sags at her touch, back bowing, his guard and the battle draining from him at her touch. He rests his head on her shoulder again, and she strokes the silken black hair at the back of his head. Very gently, as if he is afraid of his own strength, his arms come around her back and he locks her in his embrace. He is hotter than the sun, comes the wild thought.

“There is only you,” he murmurs. “I have known since we first touched minds that there could only be you. But do you not understand? I would brutalize you like a savage. I would plunder all that you are and take away your choice, your agency, just like the beast your mother married. I _burn_ , and I cannot control it, I cannot rein it in, I am – I am a monster, base and unworthy. Ashayam, you must leave me to this. You must allow me my final dignity and not let me become a rapist.”

Jamie draws back to look into his eyes.

“And if it _is_ my choice? If I choose to stay with you now, and give over everything that you need, does that count for nothing to you?”

“You do not understand.”

Jamie yanks Spock’s head up by his hair without the pretense of tenderness and forces eye contact when he looks down.

“No, _you_ don’t understand,” she says. “You think you’re being noble? You think I’m some delicate flower that needs to be protected from your big bad mating drive? Spock, I own my body and my sexuality, and I am not defined by something that happened twenty years ago, and I choose you. Right now, right here, forever, I am choosing you. You don’t— you don’t get to fuck off and die when you didn’t even ask me what I wanted, and I want you, get it?”

Spock’s mouth hangs open in disbelief, the threads of his resolve visibly unraveling.

“The bond is for life,” he protests weakly.

“Then you’re stuck with me until I die an old lady who collects teapots.”

“There will most likely be children.”

“We’ll buy a minivan.”

“The ponn farr may last several days.”

“I’ll be sure to stay hydrated.”

“I cannot not be gentle.”

“Who needs gentle?”

“I am— I am—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The kiss is as promised, not gentle; his teeth gnash at hers, his sucking mouth crushes her lips and mashes her tongue. They are clawing, straining against each other, tearing their uniforms in their haste to disrobe. Hunger and fire grip Spock by the spine and he moans, finally losing the tenuous grasp he had on his control. He shoves Jamie down onto the floor, and without warning, his rampant cock is invading her throat, gagging her, eliciting moisture from her eyes. She draws back and grips the slick base of it, steadying his graceless thrusts. She gathers saliva and applies rough suction, and above her Spock throws his head back and roars. He clutches her hair too hard, but it only makes her tits ache and her cunt throb, and she whimpers around the bulk of his cock.

Spock lifts Jamie’s head off his cock by her hair and pushes her face onto the edge of the mattress, her knees braced on the floor. She is a perfectly lewd picture of his desires, manifested in the long line of her back and the creamy white curves of her ass. He pushes her knees apart and savors her moan. Her anus clenches, and from underneath the bronze curls, her labia peek pink and glistening and vulnerable, viscous fluid oozing forth from her empty, aching channel.

Spock presses her neck down with one hand and in an instant, his cock is fully encased in the cool grasp of Jamie’s cunt, and he sets a punishing pace without waiting for her to adjust. The cries that shake the furniture come in tandem, deep, growling grunts punctuating high-pitched wails. Within a few short minutes, Spock is holding Jamie down and spurting hot jets of come deep inside her. He shouts, but it is not enough, there is no relief, only the relentless burn of his lusts and the aching tumescence of his cock. With one hand, he lifts Jamie up and deposits her on the bed face up. He levers his body over hers, spreading her open and shoving his hands into her knees, folding her legs forward for the deepest possible penetration. Her expression is beatific and wanton, welcoming him like he never believed she – or anyone – was capable. He sinks forward, her cunt grasping around him. They both moan, and Spock starts his fevered thrusting again.

Spock leans down, uncaring of the awkward position, to chew at her sweet pink nipples like an ungrateful child. Her legs are locked around his back as he drives his cock deep enough to batter her cervix, and he brings up one hand to squeeze her soft, fragrant tits. Her head thrashes in answer, her cries taking on a desperation he remembers well. In weak moments, he would replay those memories and masturbate himself to empty climax, her absence a cold space in his mind and heart and bed. He savors the hard nub in his mouth now, the soft swell against his face, the scent of soap and sweat and _Jamie_ as he buries his head in her chest.

Her hands come around his face to force him to look into her eyes. They are blue – blue and cool like the Terran sky, like the Terran ocean, like the color of his salvation and release. They inflame him, and he thrusts harder, the bed shaking, Jamie’s head bouncing against the bulkhead.

“Spock,” she says, hoarse voice carrying a note of wonder.

“I must—”

“Do it.”

His hand leaves her breast to dig into the psi points on her face. His body and mind surge as one, penetrating Jamie’s thoughts as surely as he penetrates her body. Without effort, like falling water, they are a single, united being, the slide of their thoughts liquid and warm against each other. It is unlike any other meld they have shared before; this is a rebirth, a new lifetime, the creation of a bond that will anchor Spock’s raging passions and forge the passage to their future as a unit linked by the transience of the body and the permanence of the katra. Jamie’s being suffuses Spock’s, Spock’s being envelops Jamie’s, and in bursts of color and emotion and instinct, they tumble through moments and eternities, born and reborn again and again as each soaks up living knowledge of the other, helpless against the crashing tide.

Jamie is a small Vulcan boy turning away from his human mother’s embrace, choosing the Vulcan way.

Spock is human, female, wondering where her brother went this time.

Jamie feels satisfaction at the split of a sneering lip, the well of green blood, the crack of his knuckles against bone.

Spock is fourteen, getting a contraceptive hypospray at the free clinic because she knows Frank will be back again and again, and she can’t go through another abortion.

Jamie has left his mother and his home; he is surrounded by humans who try and fail to engage him, and he is not lonely because he is Vulcan.

Spock is drunk, eating every pussy that passes under her nose, obliterating herself in every Iowa bar that still lets her get through the door.

Jamie allows himself to feel pride that Captain Pike specifically chose him to serve as science officer even though he has only just graduated from the academy.

Spock meets McCoy – _Bones_ – on a shuttlecraft and for the first time, she knows a man who doesn’t want anything from her but her continued good health and friendship.

Jamie meets Nyota Uhura and thinks he can build a life with someone so intelligent and respectful and aesthetically pleasing.

Spock is Jamie is Spock meeting Jamie who is Spock who is Jamie and they’re on the _Enterprise_ , watching a black hole swallow the enemy who took Jamie’s father and Spock’s planet, they’re Captain and First Officer, they’re in love and ecstatic, and they’re flying apart, dissolving as Spock faces the possibility that atrocities from Jamie’s past dictate that she cannot weather the fires of the pon farr, he cannot ask it of her, and they are alone in the dark, isolated and so miserable in their solitude, and suddenly there is fire and fire and fire and they—

—Break apart panting, and Jamie’s pumped full of another load of come, the slippery white jism leaking out around Spock’s unflagging cock. They gasp as they reel back, eyes locking blue and brown and staring, knowing.

Jamie runs her hands down Spock’s head, across his shoulders and along his back, soothing. Sweat is cooling on their skin, the tremors that rocked Spock’s body calming. He leans in for a soft kiss, settling his hips into the cradle of hers, his cock still hard and filling her completely, and she wraps her arms around him.

“I love you,” she says after a moment, stumbling only slightly over the foreign words. “I never said it before, but I’m not too proud anymore. I love you, Spock.”

“I love you,” is all Spock says in answer, sighing into her neck. He begins to undulate his hips into hers, rocking rather than thrusting, his cock rubbing along Jamie’s overstimulated vaginal walls and his pubis grinding into her swollen clit. He sets his mouth to sucking on a nipple and Jamie mewls, jerking her hips up to force Spock deeper, tangling her hands in his hair to keep him at her breast.

Spock snakes a hand between them to rub against Jamie’s clit. He presses it firmly, circling and squeezing and stroking its short length. Jamie gasps and writhes, her cunt grasping at his cock rhythmically. She wails her pleasure, and Spock thrusts harder, working her nipple with his teeth and tongue and lips and her clit with his clever hands and then Jamie’s veritably screaming, wrenching his hair, spasming all around him, the orgasm a tempest raging through her from her toes to her scalp. Spock holds her through the reverberations.

Jamie sinks into the bed under Spock’s weight, heaving deep breaths in the aftermath of her orgasm. Spock slides off her to one side, his hard cock springing out slick with vaginal fluid, semen, and his own personal lubrication.

“Fuck, Spock,” she gasps. “It’s been so long.”

“The fire is banked only; I will soon have need of you again.”

Jamie only hums, turning to nestle into Spock’s side. He runs a hand through the bronze waves of her hair.

“Several days, you said?”

“Indeed.”

“It was good. Really _fucking_ good. Heh, really good fucking.”

“You will grow weary of it, I am sure. I may injure you before my Time is complete.”

“We’ll see. For now, do you want a blowjob?”

Spock’s penis jumps at the suggestion, rolling against his thigh and producing a drop of fluid. Jamie huffs a soft laugh and caresses it fondly. She gives it a firm pump before Spock growls and pushes her down by the shoulders to make sure she fulfills her promise.

They fuck for four days, at turns wild and tender, Spock ejaculating into every available orifice. They meld for hours, orgasms bursting like supernovas in their joined minds, their bodies distant, forgotten vessels. Even when Jamie’s sleeping, drained and shattered, Spock slips his cock inside her, pumping away the fire in his veins. When they’re not joined in either mind or body, when bodily functions must be attended to and hydration and food intake monitored, Spock watches Jamie closely, careful not to let his semen leak from her bruised body. He is fanatical about it in his agitated state, holding his hand to her cool cunt when he’s not filling it with cock, telling her to be mindful. She laughs, telling him not to worry, because he’s come so much she’s drowning in it, but he is not deterred.

By the end – after the first few hours, even – Jamie’s nipples are cracked and chafed, her vagina is dry, rough, and painful to touch, and her entire body is mottled with bruises and bite marks. Finally, Spock collapses against her and mumbles that it’s over, that he no longer burns.

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

After a few moments, Spock gets up, stretching the long muscles of his back and legs. Jamie is too exanimate to do anything but sit back and appreciate the view. Spock disappears into the head and emerges with a damp cloth and some medicated balm. Sitting back down on the bed, he nudges Jamie’s legs apart and presses the cloth against her sore cunt.

Jamie makes a strangled hissing sound.

“Christ. Let’s not have sex for at least a week.”

“I believe that a longer interval may be necessary for recovery.”

“Oh, no. I want you as often as possible while we’re still young and limber.”

“Jamie—” Spock cuts himself off.

“Hmm?” Jamie prompts him. “What is it?”

“I— I wish to thank you. You have endured this trial admirably. I never allowed myself to hope— to hope for such forbearance, or a mate who would accept me fully, whom I could also hold in such regard. I find myself marveling at my fortune.”

“Spock,” Jamie says, weakly shrugging one smooth shoulder. They have exposed themselves to each other as thoroughly as any two beings are capable, and yet she is self-conscious at the depth of her feelings for him. “It wasn’t a trial. I would do anything for you. Anything at all. This was… this was nothing, Spock.”

“It is something, ashayam,” Spock says, and that’s the end of the discussion. He encourages her to expel some of his semen, and then applies the balm along the raw walls of her vaginal canal with gentle swipes of his fingers.

“Do you require further medical attention?” he asks after he disposes of the cloth and puts away the balm. She opens her arms, and he climbs into the bed, sighing, resting his head above her abused breasts. He savors her scent, her hands in his hair, stroking.

“I don’t think so,” she replies. “Let’s just… lie here, together. We can call Bones in the morning. I’m taking tomorrow off, though.”

“That is wise. I will attend you.”

A laugh.

“You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I wish it.”

Jamie inhales, then exhales in slow, measured time. The warm glow of Spock’s presence thrums low in the back of her mind, and she is an answering consciousness in his. Sore, exhausted, the lovers fall asleep secure in their affections, the desperate pangs of their ongoing solitude passing into a previous lifetime.


End file.
